


To Dance With Death

by lilypea



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Dark!Skyeward, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 09:23:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1774021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilypea/pseuds/lilypea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two attractive young killers meet on a job and find unexpected pleasure in each other’s company.</p><p>“I was told you would be here,” she stated calmly.</p><p>“Were you now?”</p><p>“Indeed I was. I see you have eyes for my…. friend, over there,” she nodded towards his target.</p><p>Who was she, and what did she want with him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To Dance With Death

Grant Ward entered the old stately home through the double doors, his gun hidden comfortably under crisp suit jacket. He strode into the foyer, confidently adjusting his black, understated bow tie, just enough to blend in to the upper class crowd in which he was told he would find his latest victim.

He made his way over to the waiter with the refreshments, giving a brief smile as he plucked the champagne from his server’s tray, automatically scanning the crowd for the tall, middle-aged, stereotypically attractive man. His description and photograph swum in the forefront of his mind, professional as ever.

He never liked being made to attend these kinds of functions, but sometimes one needed to accept a contract or two to keep themselves fed and under the radar. So when his contact told him to dress up and ship out, he didn’t really have a choice.

He heard music coming from down the hall and followed it to a ballroom, typical of a place like this. He kept to the edge of the vast, brightly lit floor, observing people talking, heads bobbing as they danced, sipping from his glass casually. 

He spotted his target facing away from him, speaking maybe a little too animatedly to a young woman with dark hair and red lips who was wearing a black dress that was maybe a little too low cut for the occasion. Probably just another pretty young thing looking to marry rich, he didn’t pay her any attention. She was merely a distraction. That was, until she caught his eye.

She excused herself with a brush to the other man’s arm and made her way towards him, never looking away, drawing him into the dark pools of her eyes.

“Grant Ward,” she addressed him as he halted a bit too far into his personal space.

He cocked an eyebrow.

“And you are?”

“Oh, I have no need to tell you that.”

She was nonchalant, brushing off his question like it was nothing more than a slight inconvenience. It probably wasn’t, to her anyway. He, on the other hand, was slightly put off.

“I was told you would be here,” she stated calmly, taking his champagne glass from him and taking a delicate slip. He was in no position to stop her, not surrounded by all these people.

“Were you now?”

“Indeed I was. I see you have eyes for my…. friend, over there,” she nodded towards his target.

Who was she, and what did she want with him?

“Well, I was also told that you may be interested to know that I will joining him in one of his private rooms later this evening,” she added, running her hand down the front of his neatly pressed shirt. He looked at her suggestively.

“Why would I be interested in such a thing?”

“Oh, I’m not sure. Maybe in case you were to…”

She moved in even closer, hand on his shoulder, crimson lips by his ear.

“Kill him?” she whispered sultrily.

He froze on the spot. How could she know? He was the best as his work, always discreet, and here he stood, like a fool, his job potentially being compromised by a small young woman with a sparkle in her eye.

“Surprise,” she chuckled as she took a step back, handing his now empty glass back to him.

“See you later.”

She winked as she turned away, hips swaying, giving him a full view of her very backless dress.

He’d really hate to have to kill such a beauty, but he had to do what must be done.

*

Twenty minutes later, Grant was still watching the two of them, his target’s hand on the young woman’s back, his fingers slowly making their way under the fabric of her dress. Grant couldn’t help but feel a little disgusted, and definitely not jealous.

She, however seemed to be encouraging his touches, her hand running up his arm as they turned to exit the room, shooting Grant a little smile over her shoulder, beckoning him to go along after them. He followed, figuring he should quite literally take the shot while he had the chance. He would worry about her later.

He stuck to the shadows, waiting outside the door of the room the two had entered until he heard something heavy slump against the floor from inside. Reaching for his weapon, he entered.

He found something that surprised him, for the first time in a while. The older man was sprawled on the floor, unconscious, in what looked to be an extremely uncomfortable position, while the young lady fixed her hair and adjusted the strap of her dress.

“He’s just knocked out. You can finish him off later. He was certainly an eager one.”

Grant shifted the aim of his gun from the figure on the floor to the center of her chest.

“Why did you do that?”

She still seemed relaxed, despite the chance of a bullet piercing her heart.

“Oh, deary, I was hired by the same person who employed you. They just wanted to see the job done properly. A little paranoid, if you ask me. You don’t have to shoot me, you’ll still get your share.”

He searched her eyes, and found a certain warmth to them. He took a gamble, possibly quite a stupid one, and decided to trust her. Keeping eye contact with her, he put two bullets through their target’s head. 

“Showing off now, are we?” she smirked.

He rolled his eyes in response. Something told him he shouldn’t attempt to be witty around her.

“Let’s get out of here,” he suggested.

“Fine by me.”

*

They snuck their way through the old servant’s quarters and out the back door. He fell behind, watching her as she strolled down the gravel drive, illuminated by the soft light of the lamps that bordered it.

Something about her, her sense of innocence in that moment, the way her hair blew in the light breeze, how she added a skip to her step every so often, made him wonder how she got here. She was sharp, that he’d found out, but not all intelligent young women end up killing for questionable people for a living.

A sleek black car pulled up as they reached the front gates, evidently her ride. She turned before opening the back door.

“The name’s Skye, by the way. May as well tell you now that we’re parting ways.”

“Well then, thanks for the help back there, Skye. Not that I needed it. “

She laughed at that. It sounded like soft bells to his ears.

“Well, maybe I could help you out again sometime.”

He shrugged.

“Maybe.”

She nodded at him, once, and gracefully climbed into the back seat. He watched the vehicle until it reached a turn in the road before he headed towards his SUV, smiling to himself.

He didn’t think getting some more blood on his hands with her by his side seemed like a terrible idea, really.


	2. Warming Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grant Ward meets Skye for the second time.
> 
> "She stepped to make her way across the threshold. He didn’t stop her."

As Grant stepped out of the cold shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, he heard a sharp and impatient rap at his front door. Cursing, he grabbed a knife from the kitchen bench as he made his way through his apartment. You can never be too careful when your idea of fun involves murder.

He gazed through the peephole and started at the brown doe eye that stared back at him. He remembered those eyes. How could he not?

“What are you doing here?” he asked as he swung the door open, his voice giving away his surprise that was not completely unpleasant.

“Hello to you, too,” she smirked, making no attempt to hide the path her eyes made over his bare chest. 

Her eyebrows raised in approval, she stepped to make her way across the threshold. He didn’t stop her.

She ventured through his living room, scoping the place out as she removed the black leather boots she was wearing and dropped them haphazardly on the rug. She looked as though she’d lived there for years, pulling herself up to sit on the kitchen island, and Grant didn’t find himself minding at all. In fact, he rather liked it, apart from the obvious breach of his privacy. He locked the door and moved towards her. 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

She looked up from the apple she had stolen from his fruit bowl. 

“I stalk people as a hobby.”

Grant tried to look as casual as possible at the idea of her being more of a psychopath than he first anticipated. He probably just looked dumbstruck.

“I’m joking. Jesus, would getting a sense of humour kill you?” she snorted. It seems she already had him pegged to a T.

“In a world like ours, it’s not hard to find people. Just ask around. I’m sure you could have rocked up unannounced at my front door if you’d tried hard enough.”

She wasn’t wrong. He put that idea away for later.

“Okay, sure, but was there any particular reason for this visit, or do you just happen to be running low on fruit?”

She was pacing circles around him by this point. He tried desperately hard to forget how naked he was under his towel.

“Oh please, like I need to pay for fruit,” she scoffed. “I was just about to go and do something fun when I thought of a certain someone who might just be interested,” she explained, punctuating the mention of him with a light touch to his still damp chest, making him gulp involuntarily.

“What is this “fun” thing exactly?”

“Oh, you know, just bloodshed.”

Well, at least they had that in common.

“I’m listening,” he prompted, leaning against the arm of his couch.

“Well, you may be surprised to know that I’ve made some people more than a little upset in my time.” She slowly moved around the room in front of him as she spoke, hands waving, still holding the apple that he now considered hers.

“No, not really.”

“Oh ha ha. If that’s your idea of a sense of humour, it really needs work.”

He held is hands up jokingly in surrender. “Okay. What’s your point, then?”

“What might some people do to others that had made them angry?” she asked him.

“I don’t know, threaten them, kill them mayb – oh.”

“Exactly. There are some brains behind that brawn after all.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should.”

He tried his hardest to keep his eyes locked with hers as his heart rate rose, never wanting to put himself in a position where he could be taken advantage of. He swore he saw her pupils dilate under his gaze.

She spurred herself on with a polite cough, turning away from him to admire the view from the window. “To the point, I may or may not have stolen a questionable amount of money and other, well let’s just call them ‘valuables’, from a previous boyfriend, and he’s pissed about it.”

“I wonder why.”

That earned him what he could only have described as a death glare. 

“Well I’m sure you won’t be as empathetic when you learn he was a cheating bastard who’s put a hit out on me, now, will you?” All traces of snark and good humour had left her voice. If there was any time to take the enigma that was Skye seriously, it was now.

“No. I may be a murderer with tainted morals, but I can still be reasonable.”

He was rewarded for his sincerity with a knowing smile, which he found he much preferred to the scowl that made her look like she could whither his will to live and then eat him for lunch later.

“What are you asking me to do, exactly?” She may have been beautiful and have captured his interest, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to mess with things that were going to come back and get him a bullet through the brain later.

“Well, you are the infamous Grant Ward,” she noted, snaking towards him, once again reminding him of his attire, of lack thereof. “You have a very impressive reputation, and we had so much fun last time I thought we might take this as somewhat of a bonding exercise. I’m not going to say no to a helping hand.”

He paused to mull over the suggestion for a bit. “So, you basically want me to help you kill your ex?” He could think of several much more fun things to do with her, if he was completely honest. The idea of cleaning up after her last escapade whilst making himself her current one was flawed, to say the least.

“You put it so elegantly, but yes, that is basically it.” She moved to pick her shoes up from where she left them and unceremoniously plonked herself on the couch next to him so she could return them to her feet. “Well, are you coming or what?”

He examined her then, properly. She stood confidently in her jeans and worn leather jacket, her hair loose and falling around her face. If it was bothering her, she wasn't letting it show. It occurred to him then, as he let his eyes roam her features, that he was probably in too deep, that this girl had strutted into his life and started pulling down walls without a blink of one long eyelash, and she’d only known him for a week. He knew how dangerous attachment could be, and that he was breaking all the rules he had set for himself all those years ago, but there was something about her that made him want to throw caution to the wind and tear the barriers he’d lived within to shreds. So what now?

“Can I at least get dressed first?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! xx


	3. Newer Ties

Skye reclined the passenger’s seat of Ward’s SUV, resting her feet on the dash as they pulled out of his apartment complex. Skye had insisted he drove, as she needed to “plan”, whatever that entailed.

“Where does this guy live, exactly?” Grant probed. He had effectively been led into this blind, which wasn’t such a great thing at the wheel of a moving vehicle.

“Get on the highway, it’s about an hour from here.”

Great then, time to bond.

“Sooooo, how did you meet this guy, anyway?”

Skye shot him a curious look out of the corner of her eye. 

“Are you really asking?” she sniggered, making it seem like a preposterous idea.

“You did just say it was going to take and hour. I’d rather not sit here in silence.”

“Fair enough, I suppose. If you must know, we met in Vegas.”

“What a surprise.”

“Again. Humour. Needs work.”

“What? It isn’t, the way you’ve described him. Okay fine, change the topic.”

“To what?”

“I don’t know. The weather?”

“What are we, ninety?”

Grant rolled his eyes and pursed his lips. If they weren’t going to do anything but argue, he’d stay silent after all. She noticed.

“What if we do a sort of twenty questions thing? Maybe that’ll ‘break the ice’” she suggested, waggling her fingers in the air to represent quotation marks around the cheesy cliché.

“Doesn’t that have the potential to get a bit… personal?” he pointed out. He didn’t really take her for someone who shared information about herself that easily, and he certainly wasn’t one to do so either.

She shrugged. “It could be fun. Come on, surely you aren’t completely opposed to the F word.”

He almost veered the car off the road at the thought of another word entirely.

“Oh my GOD, Ward, seriously?! Maybe this wasn’t a great idea after all.” She sounded somewhat disappointed amidst her panic.

“No, no, I’m fine. Really,” he reassured her, attempting to lower her raised eyebrow.

“Okay, I’ll start. How old were you when you first killed someone?”

“Oh that’s easy, I was nineteen.”

“Alright then, not too weird. Your go.”

His mind was suddenly blank. The only question he could think of asking was what kind of shampoo she used, and that was just plain weird. He searched the scenery outside the windshield for a prompt. Aha.

“Where do you grow up?” he inquired, carefully, not wanting to break any boundaries just yet.

“Well, the orphanage was in New York. I moved around a bit, but I was never in any other place for long.” She said it like it was the most casual thing in the world.

So, she was an orphan. Grant suddenly had a head full of questions, but none that he felt he could ask. So he didn’t.

“Local then, huh? No too far away from me.”

“Really? Where’d you grow up?”

“Out in Massachusetts, mostly,” he stated, matter-of-factly.

“Huh, cool. Your go again.”

Shit, Grant. Think.

He was obviously quiet for a too long, because she broke the game off claiming it was “boring, anyway”. Good call.

The next thing he knew, she’d pulled out her phone and was hooking it up to his stereo. He didn’t stop her, he figured it’d be interesting to see what kind of music she was into. You know, just out of curiosity, nothing more. Pieces of a puzzle.

The upbeat sounds of a piano played through the car, followed by a sweet sounding voice.

_“I’m rollin’ the dice, got the wind in my hair. I’m gonna kill my boyfriend, yeah.”_

Skye didn’t hesitate for a second in quietly singing along, tapping her fingers against the car door. She must have felt him looking at her.

“Just getting in the mood.”

“Appropriate,” he remarked, semi-sarcastically. Well, he wasn’t sure what else he would have expected.

The song continued, with Ward paying rapt attention to the lyrics as the line that captured his interest repeated itself.

_“Kill, kill, kill, I’m gonna kill, kill, kill, so we can run away just like we said. Kill, kill, kill, I’m gonna kill, kill, kill, so we can be together just like we planned.”_

The idea hit Grant like a train. Running away with Skye. He was on the run on a regular basis; it wouldn’t hurt to have a little companionship, would it?

The album continued, Skye humming along as Ward watched the road, thinking, occasionally snapping back to attention as Skye gave him directions, reminding him that the trip had a purpose, an end point, whether he liked it or not.

They pulled up in front of a modern house with a well-groomed exterior.

“Here we go!” Skye remarked, swinging the door open and hopping down onto the pavement with an enthusiasm that Grant hadn’t seen since the night they had met. He, however, didn’t share the same state of mind. All he seemed capable of doing as he climbed out of the vehicle was question his choices and stare, slack-jawed at the building in front of him. So, this was the kind of guy she was used to, huh?

Skye had already made it to the front door and had her hand stuck in a large plotted plant.

“Idiot still hasn’t moved his spare key,” she commented as she pulled the shiny silver object from the soil.

“So we’re just walking in the front door?” Grant was a little disbelieving. He was used to more subtle approaches; climbing through vents, breaking locks on windows. Just strolling into this guy’s house like they were invited guests seemed a little too easy.

“Yeah, sure. I know what he’s like. Probably shut up in the back somewhere. He won’t know what hit him.”

She turned the key in the lock and pushed the door in slowly, beckoning for Grant to follow. They made it into the tiled entrance hall without incident.

“I feel like a common criminal,” he whispered.

“What, like you aren’t?”

“I take offence to that.”

He got no further reply as Skye snuck further into the house. He followed her though a number of different hallways, with no sign of their victim except for the faint sound of running water.

“He’s in the shower,” Skye breathed, making a move towards the bedroom.

“Oh, that’s great. Not only do I get to be partially responsible for killing a man I didn’t even know existed before this morning, but I get to catch him with his pants do-“  
Skye fingers covered his lips as his voice rose over their established whisper. 

“Do you want to get busted?”

He shook his head, her hand rubbing pleasantly against his lips. Now was not the time to get turned on, for God’s sake.

“Good, then shut up. And don’t you kill guys you don’t even know all the time?”

“Yes, but not all of them are your ex boyfriends.”

He tried to look as exasperated as he could, but she had already entered the bedroom, knife drawn, standing at the ready outside the ensuite. It was Ward’s last chance to make his decision: commit to killing or stand aside and try not to get any further involved. His thoughts on the matter where interrupted by a screeching sound from inside the adjacent bathroom. Their victim was singing. Or at least he was trying to.

Grant shot a look at Skye and found her with her hand clutched across her mouth, eyes brimming with tears of silent laughter. It was infectious. Within seconds he was almost biting his fist to keep him from giving away their position, the hilarity of the situation somehow convincing him he would see the task through to the end, if not just to see Skye laugh like that again.

Laughter having subsided, he joined her outside the doorway and nodded that he was ready. Skye mouthed the countdown.

Three.

Two.

One.

NOW.

Grant kicked in the locked door in one swift movement and immediately located the very obvious, and also very naked, target.

“Hey! Who the fuck ar – “

He didn’t get to finish his question as Grant’s fist connected with his face with a sickening crack, his head smacking against the shower wall behind him. But he wasn’t going down that easily.

Skye swept between the two men, kicking the feet out from under her ex and placing a heavy boot on his chest.

“See ya, Dave,” she crooned before ramming her knife into his neck, killing him quickly and effectively.

She stepped out of the still running shower with a sigh of relief and rinsed her blade off in the stream.

“Well, that’s a sight I’m thankful I’ll never have to see again,” Grant said, staring down at the prone and bloody remains of Dave.

He couldn’t help but smile as he looked at the woman across from him, realising that the both of them were now quite damp, slightly out of breath and standing in another person’s bathroom. She grinned back at him.

“What do you say we make the journey back and clean ourselves up?” she suggested, a slight twinkle in her eyes.

“Lead the way.”

*

They were mostly dry after blasting the air con on the hour’s trip back to Ward’s apartment, but he fetched her a clean towel regardless.

“Today was pretty fun, huh?” she said as she finished patting herself down.

“Yeah, I suppose it was.” Grant found he was a little surprised at the truth of his statement, but decided that it was a good thing.

“You have a pretty impressive right hook.”

He thanked her, examining his right fist like it was the answer to all his prayers. She edged closer and placed the now used towel in his hands. And then her lips were pressed against his.

It took him a second before he started to move, dropping the towel like a worthless scrap, placing one hand on her small back and one holding the back of her head with his fingers threaded through her hair. Despite the day’s activities, she still smelt nice, like coffee and strawberries, all he could think about aside from the feel of her mouth moving slowly against his own.

It was over too soon, as she pulled away and looked him close in the eyes, her already large pupils now even larger.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice breathy from their exertions. And before he got a chance to say “you’re welcome”, she’d left the apartment and shut the door behind her.

Man oh man, did Grant Ward have it bad.


	4. Lover, Collider

_*Two Months Later*_

“We have an hour.”

Skye’s voice drifted from his kitchen, where she sat sharpening her knives, wearing one of Grant’s button-downs. Meanwhile, he was scouring his living room trying to locate his jeans.

“Shouldn’t you be getting dressed then?” he asked, laying on his smirk that he knew she only pretended to hate.

“Grant Ward, are you trying to get me to put clothes on?” He couldn’t help but smile as she faked astonishment.

“You know I’d be ripping that shirt off you if we didn’t have money to make,” he stated, zipping his fly and moving to glide his hands up her bare thighs.

“Oh, do I know.” She wrapped his legs around him and pulled him forward to suck on his bottom lip.

“Skye, you said we have t-“ He stopped as her finger met his mouth.

“I said we have an hour. That’s still enough time for one more round.” She had that look in her eyes as she gazed at him through heavy lashes, like she could eat him alive. He didn’t need any more convincing. 

_*Two Weeks Later*_

The dust swirled around them as they gave the body a final push down the hill.

“This isn’t exactly the most elegant of disposals.”

“Are our jobs really even elegant at all?”

“Ward, we met at a ball.”

“Like I could forget that. Well, at least no one is going to see us out here. It really is desert-ed.”

Skye’s neck snapped around from where she was watching their rotund victim roll his way to his resting place.

“Did you just…”

“Yep. Yes, I did.”

“Wow. A pun. We’re finally moving on from toilet humour.”

“Hey, you have to admit even the toilet humour has been an improvement.”

Skye donned her sunglasses as she moved towards their waiting bike.

“No comment.”

-

The appropriate amount of black leather they were both wearing had turned to a murky brown by the time they reached the prick on the landscape that was their motel. Grant watched closely as Skye shook out her hair and tossed her jacket into the tiny bathroom, revealing her curves, which he wasted no time in reaching for. They both assessed the damage in the mirror.

“Oh my God, I’m about two shades browner than I was when we left, and not in a good way,” Skye said as she moved her fingers over her revealed skin.

Grant put on his most serious voice. “Well then, I guess we have no choice.”

“What?”

He moved quickly, stripping her of her filthy shirt and bra before lifting her up and carrying her to the shower, her laugh bouncing off the tiles the whole time.

_*One Week Later*_

“I have eyes on him, Skye.”

Ward watched his target as he approached the bar three seats down from him as he nursed his half-finished drink.

“Okay, you’re clear to engage,” Skye replied, her soft voice entering his ear through his comm. Grant placed his drink on the bar and scanned the room. Only two civilians, it would be done quickly and quietly. 

He was reaching for the knife in the back of his jeans when he heard the bang, felt the searing pain in his left side. He clutched his ribs, and his hand came away warm and red. He’d been shot. He didn’t even have time to check where the shot had come from, for any more possible hostiles, before he slid to the ground, the floor becoming wet beneath him. He tried putting pressure on the wound, but he was already so weak it was pointless. For the first time, he wasn’t going to be able to save himself.

The last thing he registered before he blacked out was his name.

-

The light filtered through the crack in his eyes as he tried to rouse himself. He was lying on something soft and the air smelt of Skye’s perfume. Either this was heaven, which wasn’t something he believed in, or he wasn’t dead. The light sound of breathing coming from next to him told him it was the latter.

Skye was slumped over in the chair she had pulled up next to what he recognised as her bed, her head resting next to his hip. He wheezed her name to get her attention. She raised herself from her quiet state, only to erupt.

“Oh my God, you fucking idiot!” she yelled, pacing away from him. “You almost fucking died! I had to practically drag you back here and patch you up! Good thing they didn’t get you in the heart because then I would have had to take you to the hospital and everything really would have gone to shit!”

“Skye, I didn’t mean to…”

He stopped as he noticed something unusual about her. Her eyes were rimmed with red and the small amount of eye makeup she wore was smeared over her face.

“Skye, are you okay?”

“Well I’m not the asshole who got shot,” she snapped, facing away from him.

“Hey, I know, it’s just…I’ve never seen you cry.”

She looked right at him then, and her initial anger seemed to seep away.

“I’m sorry, I just… I care about you, okay? A lot. More than anyone, actually.”

He understood her outburst then, her reaction to emotions she wasn’t familiar with and didn’t know what to do about.

“Skye, I’m sorry. This job is dangerous. Our whole lives are dangerous. Sometimes things happen that scare us.”

“I’m aware of that, Grant, but, just try not to bleed out next time, okay?” she asked, wiping under her eyes.

“I’ll try, I promise.”

She broke into the slightest smile. “Better than nothing, I guess.”

“Yeah,” he whispered, the exertion of their conversation was taking effect. “I love you too, you know.”

Skye gently crawled onto the bed and curled into his uninjured side. “I know.”

“Thank you. For saving my life.”

He felt her giggle into his chest. “Any time.”

She reached for his hand and he rubbed circles on her back as they both drifted off, trying to ignore the pain and the possibilities of everything that could have, and would, go wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost at an end! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!


	5. Super Psycho Love

Grant woke to the feel of Skye’s body pressed against his, having obviously made her way on top of him during the night. He was contemplating waking her when he felt her delicate fingers tracing the scar that had been left by the bullet he took only a few months earlier. He had dealt with many near-fatal wounds in his lifetime, but the memory of Skye saving his life brought a feeling that was entirely new. He now had no shadow of a doubt that he loved her, and neither did she.

He pulled her body up along his own, eliciting a squeal of surprise, and drew her in for a kiss, wrapping his arms firmly around her.

“Good morning Mister,” she huffed as they parted for air. “You look happy.”

“Well how could I not be, with you to wake up to?” His face was starting to hurt from the smile that seemed to have frozen itself onto his face.

“You are so cheesy. You gross me out,” she said with a smirk.

“And yet, you’re still here.”

Skye rolled her eyes and shifted him so they were lying on their sides, allowing Grant to stroke his hands over more of her exposed skin.

“What do you feel like doing today?” he asked.

She shuffled closer, covering his lips with her own as she clawed at his back, drawing a leg up and over his hip, pressing herself against him.

“I think that should be obvious,” she whispered, only centimetres away from his face.

He winked at her and rolled her body beneath his, sitting up so he could admire the view. 

“While I agree with your plans,” he stated, “I have something to ask you first.”

“Oh god, what is it? Please don’t tell me we’re going north again. It was fun the first time, what with the sex by the fire and all, but it’s really cold this time of year and I don’t know if I can put up with my teeth chattering while we’re looking for some guy in a cabin for yet another week.”

Grant shook his head. “We don’t have to go anywhere if you don’t want to.”

“Why? Has a job come up locally?”

“No, we don’t have any work to do for at least another three days.”

“Shame. Well, what is it? If you don’t come out with it, I’m gonna start to get pissed off, and you’ve seen what that’s like.”

“Oh, I know I have.” He placed his hands on her hips and drew circles with his thumbs. “Well, I was just wondering, and it’s totally okay if you don't want anything to do with it, if maybe… you being my wife was on the cards?”

He tensed up and dropped his eyes to her abdomen as he waited for what he assumed would be a no. He’d guessed that Skye wasn’t one for marriage, but he’d always had an idea of getting married in his mind since he was a boy, and he’d never know if he didn’t ask. They may not have lived regular lives and they were constantly putting themselves in danger for the fun of it, but he didn’t want to live out the rest of his life wondering. His conscience may have been damaged goods, but there were some things he couldn’t handle gnawing away at him.

He stared at the one freckle below her left breast for what seemed like several minutes, until Skye placed a hand carefully on his arm.

“Grant? Grant, look at me.”

He forcibly dragged his eyes to her face, and found confusion and concern there. He didn’t know what to say. He should have realised it was a stupid idea.

“Grant, I said yes.”

He gasped so hard he started to have a coughing fit and had to scramble for the glass of water on the bedside table.

“I take it you’re surprised, then?” Skye asked after he’d settled himself back over her and started kissing his way down her neck.

“What gave it away?” He had a gleam in his eyes that she’d never even seen after the most enjoyable of their kills.

“Grant, we both know I’m not great with emotions, but that doesn't’ mean I don’t love you enough to let you stick a ring on my finger.”

He settled his chin between her breasts and gazed up at her. “Marriage is more than just a ring, Skye.”

“I know that, but it’s not like we’ll ever be able to live the American dream.”

Grant sat upright, and pulled her with him, holding both her hands in his.

“Skye, I don’t want the American dream. Hell, I don’t think most American’s dream of putting bullets through people’s heads. But I can live my life with you, and if our marriage means I get to do what I love alongside the woman that I love, then I’ll be more than happy. If you’ll let me, that is.”

Skye’s face cracked into a grin. “Of course I’ll let you, you loser.”

She climbed into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

“We’re gonna get married,” she murmured in amazement.

“Fuck yeah we are.”

He felt Skye’s teeth brush along his earlobe. 

“Speaking of fucking,” she whispered, pulling him back down to hover above her, he being more than willing to comply.

“Oh, I’ll never get tired of this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is the end. I hope you enjoyed reading it :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I'll hopefully have another chapter up soon!


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